If We See a Shooting Star Tonight
by ThereBeDragons17
Summary: Koschei and Theta Sigma have made it to the end of their school career. With one night left, they remember what they're leaving behind. No slash.


"D'you think there are such things as falling stars, somewhere?"

The boy's companion paused to consider the question. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Well there's no gravity in space, is there?"

The first boy contemplated this, then lay back down and tucked his hands under it head. "I s'pose so. But what if it got caught in the gravity of a black hole or something? Wouldn't it be falling then?"

"But you wouldn't see it falling if it got caught in a black hole. Relative time, remember?"

"It doesn't matter if you see it or not, it's still technically _falling_."

The second boy rolled onto his back with a huff. "These are _shooting_ stars, not _falling_ stars."

"I'm just saying, hypothetically—"

"Never say hypothetically. It makes you sound like Rallon." The two boys smiled into the night. They were lying on their backs in the grass, staring up at the star-filled sky with the glowing first moon just barely peaking out from the side of the mountain that loomed over them. In the distance was the pitch-dark and fortress-like schooling complex known as the Prydonian Academy. The near-absolute darkness was not intimidating; it was comforting. Because in the darkness, they could see the stars, and were waiting for them to fall.

"Shooting stars aren't really stars." Of course his companion knew this. The older boy paused. "I've never seen one. A shooting star."

The younger one, who had asked the original question, shrugged. "I've heard they're really pretty."

Koschei snorted. "They're not _pretty,_ Theta, they're flaming death balls hurtling toward the surface of the planet. They're awesome."

"They never hit. Not shooting stars." Again, Koschei knew this, but it seemed like a good thing to assert, for some reason. Theta shifted in the grass, flattening a particularly tall patch with his knee so he could see the western sky better. "And yeah, they are pretty. A lot of the universe is pretty. And I want to see it all."

"Starting tomorrow," Koschei observed.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Then, "What happens after tonight?"

Koschei didn't need to ask what Theta meant. "Tomorrow we're done, Thete. A century of being here and we all graduate tomorrow."

"I'll still see you," Theta promised.

"Of course you'll still see me. And Ushas and Drax and Vansell." This seemed as much for Koschei's own comfort as for Theta's. "But get this—we _never_ have to sit through one of Borusa's lectures again! No more exams. Think about it! We don't have to listen to Mortimus getting mad at us for not paying attention in class anymore!"

Theta was silent. "I suppose." Neither of the two boys had looked at each other the whole time they were conversing. "But I'll never hear another one of Jelpax's jokes again, or prank Tutor Borusa…"

"…Or laugh at Ushas when her experiments blow up in her face," Koschei added slowly, getting sucked into Theta's reminiscing. "Or have Millenia barging into our room on Saturdays because she's decided we should have a Deca meeting."

"Tutor Evelia's art classes."

"Primies—Centies dances."

"The Deca," Theta pointed out, and something about this particular suggestion made both friends go quiet.

"Tomorrow's the last time all ten of us will be together, I suppose," Koschei said mournfully. "What with Magnus heading south and Rallon heading into the Capitol and Millenia becoming a pilot."

"I spent the last ninety-nine years waiting to get out of this place," Theta said abruptly, almost before Koschei had finished. "And now that we're done, I want to go back and do it all again."

"You'd hate every minute of it," Koschei said, "But I'd go with you. And then when we finished _that_ , we'd want to do it _again_."

"I don't want to leave."

"Neither do I. Maybe we could, you know, come back sometime. The Tutors would be _thrilled_."

"No kidding," Theta agreed, remembering pranks and disruptions of years gone by.

They were quiet for a while longer. They weren't contemplating their dilemma; it was set in stone, and there wasn't much they could do to influence it. They were stepping from their tiny, sheltered niche into a world where powerful winds blew people every which way. They were quite out of their depth. It was a new feeling.

"I hope I see a shooting star tonight," Theta said.

"I do too."

"Because I've never seen one before," Theta explained, although Koschei hadn't asked him to. "I didn't use to think they existed. That's how I want to end my time here: with something brilliant."

"Brilliant," Koschei said, rolling the word around. "That's much better than pretty."

"It _was_ brilliant," Theta muttered. "All one hundred years of it."

"That," said Koschei, searching the sky for a blazing trail, "Is absolutely true."


End file.
